Max slipped into the building like a wraith, his invisibility spell more a courtesy than a necessity. Security systems, locks, surveillance — all of it might as well have been made of tissue paper. If he wanted, he could have walked straight through the walls without bothering to open the door.
But style mattered.
He moved with casual ease, each step so light it barely kissed the floor. The magic around him barely stirred; he didn't need to drain himself for tricks like this.
At the penthouse door, Max didn't bother with spells. He simply tapped it with a fingertip, and the entire locking mechanism atomized silently into dust.
Inside, the penthouse gleamed with polished luxury. Max slipped through the shadows like a rumor, like a thought.
Voss paced anxiously, sharp motions betraying his nerves. Taskmaster stood by the window, a shark in armor, spinning a knife with restless fingers.
Max watched them, almost bored. If he flexed even a fraction of his true strength, he could end this in an eyeblink. Shatter the penthouse. Crater the building. Sink the city into a smoking pit.
But that wasn't the mission. Emma wanted subtle.
With a flick of his wrist, Max jammed every communication device within a five-mile radius. Phones, radios, even the penthouse's smart fridge — all dead.
The room went tense. Taskmaster's head jerked up sharply. Max smiled, unseen.
He let a little pressure leak out — just a taste. The temperature plummeted. Lights burst with sharp cracks. Mist curled along the marble floors, thick and unnatural. The glass walls groaned under the weight of the sudden atmospheric shift.
Voss froze, terror written plain across his face.
Max whispered into the room, a sound deeper than sound, vibrating the bones of the penthouse:
"You are nothing. Obey... or be erased."
Voss stumbled back, eyes wide, sweat beading on his brow.
Taskmaster reacted instantly, slashing his sword at where he thought the threat was.
Cute.
Max sidestepped lazily, flicked his fingers — and the sword exploded into harmless shards of light, dissolving midair.
Taskmaster stumbled, weaponless, struggling to recalibrate. Max shook his head in mild disappointment. This was supposed to be one of the best?
Enough games.
Max materialized fully, letting the glamour fall. He stood there, relaxed, hands in his pockets, looking more like a man arriving for a casual meeting than a threat that could tilt the planet with a thought.
Voss dropped to his knees, babbling promises, his will broken completely.
Max gave him a slow, dangerous smile.
"Good boy," he said.
Without another glance, he vanished — literally — folding space around himself like it was paper.
One second later, he was sliding into the SUV where Emma waited, perfectly composed. She didn't flinch at his sudden arrival; she just tilted her head, assessing him with those cool diamond eyes.
"Handled?" she asked, voice light.
Max leaned back, utterly relaxed, tossing the dead jammer into her lap.
"Voss thinks he met the devil tonight," he said, grinning lazily. "He'll do whatever you want."
Emma laughed — a real, delighted sound. Rare, beautiful.
"You're dangerous," she said, studying him like a priceless weapon.
Max shrugged, smirking.
"Baby," he said, voice low and smooth, "danger is just foreplay."
Emma's smile sharpened, and the night around them crackled with possibility as the SUV purred into motion.
The SUV slid through the city like a shark through water, silent and inevitable. Max lounged back in the seat, one arm slung over the headrest, exuding lazy power.
Emma sat beside him, legs crossed, fingers tapping lightly against the leather upholstery. Outwardly calm. Inwardly calculating.
"You're stronger than I expected," she said after a moment, her voice almost teasing.
Max flashed a lazy grin. "You're not wrong. Most people just don't expect much past human. Their mistake."
Emma studied him, the faint glow of the dashboard lights painting her features in gold and shadow.
"I don't like mistakes," she said.
Without warning, she flicked two fingers. The entire SUV — armor-plated, magically shielded, practically a tank — exploded into diamond dust around them.
Max didn't even blink. He hung lazily in the air as the remains of the vehicle dissolved into glittering motes, the night wind tousling his hair.
Emma hovered too, a slight shimmer of power around her heels. Her white suit was untouched, pristine.
The street below roared with traffic — cars screeching to a halt, horns blaring. Panicked civilians gawked up at them.
Max yawned.
"If that was a test," he said, "it was cute."
Emma smiled, slow and wicked.
"I had to be sure," she said.
Max stretched a hand toward the shattered ground, and with a casual gesture, the atoms of the SUV reassembled themselves — better, sleeker, sharper than before. The new vehicle purred into existence, all matte black and gleaming edges.
He opened the door for her with a wink.
Emma laughed again, genuinely delighted.
"Fine," she said. "You pass."
They slid back into the new SUV. This time, Emma leaned closer, her voice dropping into something silkier.
"The Hellfire Club is full of ambitious people. Dangerous people. They're going to test you harder than that."
Max smirked, eyes half-lidded. "They're welcome to try."
Emma studied him for a beat longer, then seemed to come to a decision.
"We have a meeting tomorrow night," she said. "The Inner Circle will want to see you in action. Real action. Not just scaring cowards."
Max cracked his knuckles, the sound like thunder muffled behind velvet.
"Good," he said. "I've been bored."
Emma smiled, sharp and secretive.
"You won't be for long."
The SUV roared into the night, the city sprawling out ahead of them like a glittering battlefield.
Max stared out the window, eyes half-lidded, watching the city smear past in neon streaks.
He wasn't listening to Emma talk anymore. He wasn't even thinking about the Hellfire Club or Voss or any of the little games they'd been playing tonight.
No.
His mind was on something bigger. Something worse.
"The Apocalypse guy is coming soon," he said under his breath, so soft it was almost a thought more than words.
***
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It's 22 chaps ahead